Lucy
Warnings: platonic, slight cursing, kinda crack
"...So," Soap tilted his head towards her, who had been checking her remaining ammo as the team winded down from the battle in a safehouse, "what's the story behind your callsign ‘Lucy’?"
Y/n looked up at him and grinned, as if she was expecting someone to eventually ask.
"Remember I once told you I was a wild kid before joining the army?" She hummed, her eyes again focused on the clip she was checking at the moment. She saw him nod in her periphery, and continued, "well, I was in a death metal band from ages 15 to 17."
Soaps eyebrows shot to his hairlike, and an amused smirk stretched his cheeks, "for real?"
“Yup, I was the singer,” she grinned at him, “I had damn good guttural vocals.” She placed the last of her clips in the designated pockets of her vest and leaned back against the wall, now fully looking at him.
“So, when I was still a private, our team ran into some shit during a mission to dismantle a terrorist group in the Middle East, and I got captured,” she narrated, and Soap couldn’t miss the mischievous glint in her eyes - it was gonna get good, “they started interrogating me, but I wouldn’t speak, and so they starting getting more…” she looked up, as if she was thinking about the appropriate word to describe, “...creative with their approach.”
Soap simply nodded along - he didn’t need to be explained about what could happen in an interrogation, and didn’t want to surface unwanted memories for Y/n with unnecessary questions.
“Anyway,” she continued, “after the third or fourth beating, I decided to just fuck with ‘em,” she smirked at him and he mirrored it, feeling a good bit coming, “I started reciting lyrics of some of my favorite death metal bands - in English, German, Swedish, Latin, you name it - using my guttural voice, and shivering and shaking as if I was having a seizure.”
Soap’s eyes opened like sauce plates as he bit his lips, still unable to hide a snort of a laugh at the mental image formed in his brain at her tale.
“They must’ve shat their pants, thinking I was possessed or something, and they would unleash a curse on them if they killed me” she grinned at the memory, “because half an hour later I was dropped off in the middle of the desert, hands tied and blindfolded. My team found me like an hour later, and started calling me Lucy after I told them what happened,” she smirked, her eyes filled with mischief, “Lucy is short for ‘Lucifer’.”
Soap started cackling then, throwing his head back and hitting the wall in the process. When he finally calmed down, he grinned at Y/n with a mischievous glint of his own in his eyes. “Can you still do the voice?”
Y/n winked an eye at him and sat up straight, taking a swig of water as her eyes searched the room for a target. Her gaze fell on Ghost, who was looking out of the window, unaware that he had also listened to her tale, secretly curious about her callsign origin.
“Hey, Ghost,” she called at him, her dark, throaty voice completely out of order with the rest of her looks, and he sent her a wary glance from his spot at the other side of the room, “have a cig to spare?”
Ghost stared at her for a few seconds, just like the rest of the team looked at her dumbfounded, as Soap wheezed and lost balance, nearly falling on his side.
“...Fuckin’ hell, spawn.”
A/N: *death metal noises*